


mornings with you

by hanthelibrarian



Series: IT Tumblr Fics [4]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Breakfast, Breakfast in Bed, Comfort, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Fluff, Injury, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Tumblr Prompt, brief mention of Pennywise, richie can cook
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24815347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanthelibrarian/pseuds/hanthelibrarian
Summary: Eddie wakes up and Richie isn't in bed next to him. Some clanging from the kitchen, however, tells him exactly where his boyfriend is.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak
Series: IT Tumblr Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751323
Kudos: 58





	mornings with you

**Author's Note:**

> from the prompt:
> 
> "Hello!!! I saw you had writing requests open! I was wondering if you could write something about Richie bringing Eddie breakfast in bed because Eds is still recovering from getting stabbed by Pennywise? Thank you!!!"

Eddie winces as he wakes up, his chest aching underneath the bandages that he still has to wear. A flash of fear races through his mind as he remembers just why he has to wear these bandages: Pennywise, that damn clown, and the claw that ripped into his chest, tearing apart his body as he leaned over Richie. His breathing starts getting faster and he can feel the effect it has on his wound but he can’t seem to control it. He finds himself reaching out for his inhaler only to pull his hand away from his bedside table once he remembers that it’s a placebo. He turns in the bed, body protesting with each movement he makes, to ask Richie to help him with his breathing exercises but all that’s next to him is an empty expanse of bedsheets.

Clanging coming from the direction of the kitchen startles him out of his thoughts and puts him at ease. Seeing the empty bed, he had thought that the past few months, and the wonderful things that had happened during them, had been nothing but a dream. Ridiculous, he knows, but he understands that rational thinking isn’t his strong suit before his first cup of coffee. He’s tempted to call out to Richie, ask him what he’s doing but he wants to have these few minutes by himself to collect his thoughts and focus on slowing his breathing down.

A few minutes later, his breathing has slowed and he can see Richie’s shadow getting smaller on the hardwood floor outside their bedroom as he gets closer. Eddie debates pretending to be asleep, if only to get Richie to kiss him “awake”, but he debates for too long and in walks Richie, a covered tray in his hands.

“Morning, spaghetti-head.” Richie’s voice is soft and Eddie feels a sense of warmth wash over him at the sound. “You up for a little breakfast?”

“Since when do you get up this early?” Eddie gestures toward the bedside table where their alarm clock sits, displaying the time. “7am is a bit early for a night owl like you.”

Richie shrugs and comes to stand by the side of the bed, gently lowering the tray to sit over Eddie’s legs. “Thought I’d surprise you.”

Chuckling, Eddie grabs one of Richie’s hands as it lets go of the tray and brings it to his lips, kissing it softly. “Consider me surprised.”

The gentle look that Richie gives him reminds him of when he first woke up in the hospital after they dragged him out of Neibolt. He had known, then, how Richie felt toward him. No one could see that look in his eyes and say it was anything other than love. He knew then that he needed to divorce Myra, take some time to himself to sort out just what he was feeling. Was he merely grateful for saving his life? Or was it perhaps something more? Over time, spent both with and apart from Richie, he grew to learn that his feelings, ones that had always been there, hidden beneath his thin veneer of strength and harsh words, were ones of love. Since then, the two had been together, sharing Richie’s Los Angeles home, learning the routines and habits of each other, all the little things that had missed over the last 27 years.

Richie pulls him out of his thoughts, his large and warm hands coming up to cradle Eddie’s face. “I can practically see steam coming out of your ears, Eds; quit thinking and eat.”

Eddie nods, smiling as best he can. The stab wound from Bowers didn’t heal right, not that he was expecting it to since he hadn’t sought medical attention immediately, making it nearly impossible for the left side of his mouth to pull back into a smile. From the way Richie’s eyes light up at the lopsided grin, Eddie thinks that he doesn’t really mind it.

“Bone app the teeth,” Richie announces in a terrible French accent as he uncovers the tray, revealing a plate of poached eggs with Hollandaise sauce. Beside the plate of eggs sits a bowl of mixed fruit; mango, strawberries, blueberries, and honeydew. A steaming cup of coffee, the color more like buckskin than coffee, sits at the top right corner. In the top left corner is a napkin, a note hastily scrawled onto it.

_My little spaghetti boy,_

_I got up at the ass-crack of dawn to make you these eggs so you better enjoy them._

_xoxo Trashmouth_

_p.s. you drool when you sleep and it’s cute cute cute!_

Eddie gasps in fake horror. “I do _not_ drool when I sleep!” He knows he does but he loves how Richie teases him about it. Most importantly, however, he loves Richie, even if he does snore.


End file.
